Page 67 of Vicious Impulses (The Capo and Ballerina)
“Don’t touch him!” I shout. “Nobody touches him ’til I know what you’re doing. You’ve done something to him. You’ve made him worse.”
“We’re going to need you to step aside. You’re interrupting his treatment.”
“What treatment? You’ve turned him blue!”
“Move, girl.”
One of the doctors to the right of me shoves me hard to the ground. Nobody blinks an eye or gives any reaction. They carry on working like I’m invisible or a piece of the decor. A growl revs up from my chest, my temper washing over me in a hot wave.
I have to do something. Anything.
They must be stopped.
Caelian’s hooked up to a machine that seems to pump some kind of substance into his veins. It looks different than the vials he’d had me retrieve for him that night when he’d woken up in bed riddled with pain.
It’s the substance that’s harming him. It’s only doing more damage.
They’re so busy poring over Caelian that nobody seems to be monitoring the machine that’s plugged into the wall. Boldness streaks through me as I crawl over and yank the cord out.
The machine beeps, the red light on the front flashing. The substance stops mid tube and doesn’t pump any further liquid into Caelian.
The doctors round on me, ready to unleash their ire.
“Enough insanity!” Ms. Poitier booms before they can. Everyone in the room turns toward the doorway where she stands, hands notched on her round waist. “Doctors, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave! The woman you just shoved down to the ground is Nevaeh Ziccardi, Caelian’swife. She believes Caelian has withdrawn his consent. As his wife, she is the authority on his affairs when he is incapacitated. Leave or I’ll have his security make you leave.”
The team of doctors share looks with one another. Their silence becomes their consensus as, initially one by one and then in groups of twos or threes, they file out of the room.
Ms. Poitier and Doctor Tulio step aside to allow them exit. Once they’re gone, I turn to the physician with begging eyes and ask him if he can treat Caelian.
He gives a resolute nod and then strides toward the bed to take over.
My anger melts away. Relief overwhelms me.
It’s only when I blink that my tears wet my cheeks and I realize I’ve started silently crying.
Ms. Poitier reinstates her arm around my shoulders. “It’ll be okay, Nevaeh. He’ll patch him up. He always does. I didn’t know those hacks would do what they did, or I wouldn’t have let them in.”
“You mentioned they’re from Zurich?”
“The treatment facility Caelian visits. I believe they work with Doctor Gerber, the specialist he saw in Zurich. They work closely with Zinc Co., the company Mr. C’s family owns.”
Eventually as the hours pass, I allow Ms. Poitier to escort me downstairs and soothe me with some hot tea.
I sit at the island of Caelian’s gourmet kitchen and hiccup, trying to calm my nerves.
I’m on edge, unable to quiet the roil in my stomach or the pitter-patter of my heart.
What if he doesn’t wake up? What if there’s been too much damage and he can’t recover?
Ms. Poitier strokes my hair the way a mother would. “You’re all worked up. Mr. C wouldn’t like it.”
“He was so… blue. That can’t be good.”
“He’s come back from worse before. He’ll… he’ll survive.”
But Ms. Poitier doesn’t sound so sure. There’s an undercurrent of uncertainty that belies her words. She frowns, snagging the barstool next to mine. “I’m surprised you’re so invested. Just a couple weeks ago you couldn’t stand the sight of Mr. C.”
…so much has changed. I… I care about him…